


Lines in the Sand

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [27]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-15
Updated: 2009-07-23
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: With the entire population of the Sodan arriving within days, the lords of Caldora struggle to fulfill King Henry's promise.





	1. Chapter 1

  
The journey from Cheyenne to Redwater was tense, and quiet other than the sound of hooves on the ground. With every hour, John wished he had been able to travel alone. In the spring he had come to Redwater from Madrona in less time, even having to evade the Goa'uld army.

Now, however, he had Princess Carolyn and her guards with him. Carolyn was an excellent rider but not accustomed to arduous journeys. There was also Cameron to consider. Though most of the time John would not think Cameron had been seriously injured in the last battle just weeks earlier, sometimes he would catch his cousin unawares and see a grimace on his face. On this, the third day of their journey, Carolyn looked exhausted and Cameron was trying hard not to show that he needed to rest. Though he would have continued on well into the night, John pulled his horse to a halt near a creek and raised his hand to stop the rest of the party. "We can camp here for the night," he said. There were trees on the near side of the creek, which would make it easier for the guards to secure the princess' safety.

"I am surprised you do not wish to press on," Carolyn remarked as she dismounted. "We could be in Redwater by dawn."

Delicately, John avoided mentioning his concerns for her stamina and his cousin's. "There will not be enough light in an hour or two," he said as his feet hit the ground again. "If the moon were full tonight it would be another matter. It will not be the end of the world if we delay our arrival until tomorrow evening."

Carolyn looked dubious but said nothing. John looked past her to where Cameron had dismounted. He was moving stiffly, and John worried that he had pushed his cousin too far as it was.

They settled in for the night, Cameron and John gathering wood for a small fire while Carolyn rummaged through their sparse supplies for food. "I believe Mistress Janet and her daughter are better judges of necessities than I thought any person could be," she remarked when they were all together again. "We have just enough for tonight and tomorrow morning."

Cameron chuckled as he got the fire started. "I would not tell that to either of them," he replied. "Janet would take it as further proof of her skills in nearly every field, and Cassandra is getting just as bad in thinking she has answers for everything, only she claims no one listens to her."

John chuckled. "Few young women her age have the luxury of being listened to." He glanced at the princess. "Present company excluded, of course."

Carolyn raised her eyebrows, though it was not an expression of annoyance. "I believe you may be confusing me with a different royal woman, my lord."

"Perhaps," he said, neutrally. He had heard stories, of course, of Carolyn acting as regent for her father during the fighting, but he said nothing of that. Mostly, he wished to avoid being asked to speak of Elizabeth.

If the princess had been expecting a different answer, she did not show it. Instead, she looked to Cameron. "Lord Mitchell, if it is not impertinent I would ask after your health," she said.

"Were it impertinent, it would not be my place to tell you so."

So blunt was this statement that John looked up in surprise. Cameron's ears began to get red as he realized what he had said to her, but Carolyn merely grinned. "I suppose I deserve that."

He smiled back at her. "I am well enough, Princess, but I will be glad when John and I are going homeward, and I do not have to cross this patch of earth again any time soon."

"I hope the need will not be as dire as it has been these last six months," Carolyn replied, "but I also hope the lords of Sheppard will not absent themselves from court so often now."

She glanced at John then. He pretended not to notice.

By the time they had eaten their light fare, the sun was down in the west and Carolyn retreated a little distance, as she had the previous nights. Cameron busied himself with putting out the fire, but John noticed that his eyes lingered on the princess far longer than was necessary.

John got up to get his bedroll and Cameron's out, but he did not feel like sleeping just yet. Instead, he walked north along the creek, looking at the Talas Mountains, which were just in sight, and remembering. It had been a year since he'd arrived on the northern sea, since he met Lady Teyla and helped her defend her people during a vicious attack. Since Teyla had taken him to meet Princess Elizabeth as thanks for his help. Since he'd fallen in love with the sound of her laughter and the way she would blush when he gently teased her.

That year had changed everything, it turned out.

With the earth softened by the recent rain, John didn't hear Cameron as he approached, but he was not surprised that his cousin came to speak to him. "When will you want to set out in the morning?" Cameron asked.

"At first light," John replied. "I will tell the lieutenant. The guards on the last watch will be able to wake us."

Cameron nodded. "We should be in Redwater in time for supper, then."

"Yes."

When John said nothing else, Cameron blew out a long breath. "I must confess, John, I have no wish to continue on."

"Whatever my father told you, court is not that bad," John replied. "I assume that is your objection, at any rate."

"I am discovered." Cameron smiled weakly. "I don't suppose you have any advice to share."

"Do you remember what I said before we went into battle?"

Cameron gaped at him. "You must be joking."

John shrugged. "I have found, more often than not, that most problems in court can be averted by taking a deep breath and thinking before you speak. Though this may be valuable advice for any situation in life," he added dryly.

They stood in silence for a little while, Cameron fidgeting slightly. "Cousin," he said, though with hesitation, "how great is the difference between Redwater and Atlantis?"

John looked at the creek running alongside them and sighed. "Very great and very small," he replied. "In some ways, Atalan is more of a centralized nation than Caldora, so the queen has more power and authority that is not subject to the counsel of her nobles. In other ways, people are people, and nobles are nobles. But there is one thing I would not have you forget, cousin."

"What is that?"

"You are a nobleman," he said emphatically. "Your life may not have had the trappings of court but you are none the lesser for it. The king has called for your service three times now. Let no one disabuse you of your authority."

He looked and saw Cameron swallow hard. "I still don't understand why the king has singled me out."

"Neither do I, but he has some service for you, I'm certain," John replied. "Best not to question his methods until you know them fully."

They turned back to camp then, passing between the guards and settling down for the night. "Tell me, John," Cameron said, though yawning, "when did you become an expert on such things?"

"Cousin, I assure you, I have no idea."

* * *

  
As Carolyn rode through the gates of Redwater, flanked on either side by the lords of Sheppard and followed by her guards, she belatedly realized that the gossipmongers would be out in force after this display. When she'd left for Cheyenne, she'd been too focused on her mission to think about taking another woman with her for propriety's sake. She had not even brought one of her own maids, her haste had been so great. Her guards were generally above suspicion in that regard, but she had little doubt that Lord John and Lord Mitchell were about to become the center of many rumors. The manner of their arrival would only add a different flavor to them.

When they came within the walls of the castle there were stable boys and servants waiting to take care of their horses and belongings. With them was Lord Paul Davis. He helped her from her horse and bowed. "Princess," he greeted, "your parents are waiting. There is much to discuss."

"Of course."

They had not made it ten steps out of the courtyard when Carolyn suddenly stopped. Lord Mitchell nearly crashed into her. "Princess?" John said softly, taking a step back and looking at her in concern.

"It is nothing," she said, trying to wave him off with her hand, but he did not look away from her. With a sigh, she lowered her voice. "Davis said that my parents were waiting." When John did not seem as though he understood, she added, "I have not seen my parents together in years, my lord."

John looked a little awkward, but then he briefly placed his hand at her elbow. "Then it would not do to keep them in suspense."

Carolyn agreed and set forth again with a little more resolve.

They entered her father's study, the room where all those weeks ago he had told her of his correspondence with Elizabeth Weir and that John of Sheppard had sworn fealty to the crown of Atalan. The information had shocked her then, but it seemed so normal now. Caldora and Atalan had met face to face. Lord John had not yet sworn allegiance of any kind to the king.

Despite this, there were bigger things on her mind now. Her parents were standing together at the hearth, obviously deep in conversation when she and John and Cameron arrived. She knew better than to get her hopes up, but it was difficult not to feel at least a little heartened by the sight.

"Carolyn," her father said, looking up. "My lords, please, be seated. You all look exhausted."

Carolyn wished she'd had a moment to wipe the dust of the road from her face, but it was not to be. Instead, they settled down at the table in the center of the room, her mother sitting beside her and squeezing her hand affectionately. Carolyn smiled wearily. "It is good to see you again, Father," she said.

He nodded. "I am glad to see you safely home. But I fear there is much business."

"This concerns the Sodan, my lord?" Cameron prompted, somewhat surprisingly. Carolyn would not have thought him comfortable speaking to the king when he was not directly addressed.

"Indeed," Henry replied. "In exchange for their forces fighting with us against the Goa'uld, I agreed to give them land. As a sovereign people."

Everyone in the room clearly knew that, and Carolyn frowned. "This was widely known before the war was over," she said. "What has transpired to make this an emergency?"

"Haikon is in court," Aurelia said. "A few days ago he informed all of us that he had sent his men to bring their families to the land promised to them."

"What?" Carolyn cried. "Has he no regard for how things are done in this country?"

"Pardon me, my lady," Cameron answered, before anyone else could. "But in all likelihood he feared that if he left the matter to run its natural course, it would take years, and the king might hope that if it took long enough, the issue would simply go away."

"My father is not so dishonorable –"

"I did not say –"

"Peace," said the king, holding up his hand. "I believe you are both right. I am not so dishonorable that I would go back on my word, even in a difficult matter like this, but Haikon has reason to worry that the process will take too long for his people. I cannot agree with his method of hastening a decision, but I can sympathize."

John was sitting opposite Henry, with his arms crossed over his chest. "What has this to do with us?" he asked.

"I know of Lord Mitchell's friendship with some among the Sodan," Henry replied, looking straight at Lord John. "And I know the debt you owe them."

The two men stared at each other in silence for some time and Carolyn glanced back and forth between them, knowing that John understood what Henry was getting at. John's sense of honor was strong, and doubly so where family was concerned, and Carolyn felt her father was being rather shrewd in appealing to that.

Finally John relented. "I will do what I can, but I am not sure how much you can expect of me."

"Well, at this point there are other matters arising," Aurelia said. "There are some who are using this moment to renew old grievances. Centuries-old border disputes among provinces are being resurrected now and laid at the king's feet."

"Let me guess," John drawled. "Is Maybourne behind this?"

To Carolyn's surprise, her father chuckled. "I do believe I will find great use for you, my lord. Great use indeed."

John looked a little put out by that, but Carolyn had to smile anyway. "Now, gentlemen," Henry said. "In an hour, I would have you join us for supper. My steward will take you to your chambers."

The two men rose and left with a bow. Carolyn turned to her father, who helped her from her chair and embraced her. "Welcome home, Carolyn," he said.

Her mother rose and embraced her as well, and she could not help but look back and forth between her parents with a smile on her face. She knew things could not be resolved between them in so short a time, but it was so good just to see them in each other's company after so long. "It is good to be back," she told them, taking each one's hand in hers. "It is good to be back."

* * *

  
Aurelia did not say much during the supper that followed the brief audience in her husband's study. While Henry talked with their guests of the politics engulfing the court, she was able to observe her daughter and the two gentlemen who had returned to Redwater with her.

First and foremost, she took note of their obvious exhaustion. When Lord Mitchell had walked into the dining room, a step behind his cousin, Aurelia had easily spotted the limp in his gait. Even after he had seated himself at the table, she could see how he kept his back as straight as possible, even wincing on occasion when he reached for something. She had heard of his injuries in the last battle, and hoped that his recuperation had not been seriously impaired by the mad dash from Cheyenne to Redwater, not to mention the sojourn into Atalan.  
Lord John and Carolyn, though uninjured, were hardly much better, though they kept their attentions fixed on the conversation admirably. Still, Aurelia had no doubt that the moment Henry excused them, they would all three likely take to their beds.

Aside from their fatigue, Aurelia noticed other things as well. Both Lord John and Lord Mitchell were unfailingly polite to Carolyn, each offering her whatever food they reached for before partaking of it themselves. When Lord John spoke of the restoration efforts in Cheyenne and the area surrounding the city, Carolyn gave him her full attention, even adding her own views on occasion. Similarly, when Lord Mitchell spoke, Carolyn also paid close notice to him, even offering the young man a small smile here and there.

Her daughter's fondness for both men was not overly noticeable, but Aurelia knew Carolyn better than almost anyone. She could see the appraising gleam in Carolyn’s dark eyes. What she could not determine, however, was just which lord the girl favored more.

Eventually, Henry took notice of his supper companions' tiredness and released them to rest, leaving the two of them alone in the dining room.

Once the door closed, Henry turned to her and asked, "What do you think?"

She stared back at him. "I think many things, my lord," Aurelia replied with a faint smile. "You will have to be more specific."

He glared at her, but there was no heat in his gaze. "You barely said a word," he said. "Which means you were watching the three of them do a subtle dance around each other. Dare I ask which man our daughter has set her cap for?"

Aurelia chuckled. Henry had spent the entire meal discussing politics and yet had still seen Carolyn's reactions to the two men. He might not have been able to analyze it as deeply as she had, but he was by no means blind to it.

"I honestly do not know," she answered, standing up from the table. He rose with her. "She pays both men great attentions."

They stepped out of the dining room and into the corridor. Their guards were waiting for them and immediately fell into step behind them. "Just what I need," Henry muttered beside her. "A… romantic triangle."

She laughed outright this time. "I don't know if it has gone that far. I am not as familiar with the two lords as I am with our daughter, and thus it is difficult to comprehend their level of interest in her."

Henry did not share her amusement. "Those two men will be forces to be reckoned with once they enter the mess in the assembly. John of Sheppard is no fool; he grasps these issues far better than he lets on. He just prefers to keep his own counsel. For all intents and purposes, Mitchell is his cousin's heir until the man finds himself a wife and has a child with her. Mitchell is also a close advocate of the Sodan." Henry sighed. "They are as close as kinsmen can be. The only thing I can see driving them apart is a woman, and I dearly hope that will not happen, least of all with Carolyn in the middle of it."

Aurelia had to admit that her husband had a point. Right now the two were closely allied to each other, bound by their shared cares for their home province and their common debt to the Sodan. To have them at each other's throats would be disastrous. Nonetheless, she shook her head. "I do not believe it has gone that far. I also do not think it will while politics is on everyone's minds."

They continued to walk the corridors of the palace, and eventually came to a halt in front of the entrance to Aurelia's chambers. Henry turned to her and offered her a tired smile of his own. "Sleep well, my lady," he said quietly. He looked slightly nervous, and when she did not immediately move away, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers chastely. Aurelia didn't even have time to react before Henry stepped back and moved off down the corridor in the direction of his own chambers.

She stared after him, her pulse racing. Damn the man, but even after years of heartbreak, sorrow, and upheaval, he could still make her heart pound.

* * *

  
The castle in Redwater was very crowded. Nearly every nobleman in the country was in the city, and to make matters worse, many of them had sent their wives and families to the capital, where they would have been more protected had the army failed in the west. Most of them had not yet gone home.

All this meant that John and Cameron were forced to lodge together, but more than that, the palace was terribly noisy late into the night. Inwardly Cameron was annoyed by this, for it took him far longer than it should have for him to fall asleep.

Despite this, he slept well, likely the result of the journey they'd taken from Cheyenne. The terrain was not too difficult, but often Cameron's muscles still ached. He had only to hope that his body would be his own again soon, no longer subject to the lingering effects of the war.

In the morning he and John rose early, taking breakfast in one of the large dining halls in the lower levels of the castle. They did not say much, for John seemed to be brooding a little. It took Cameron a while to realize why. He was nervous. Though it had been some time since John became the marquis and he had served the king with his fellow noblemen on the battlefield, this was clearly a different beast to be mastered. Cameron wondered how much of John's mood was centered on the last time he had appeared before the assembly, when he had been sentenced to exile.

The assembly was meeting relatively early in the morning, and Cameron followed John through the labyrinth of corridors to the great hall. It was only when they came into the well of the hall that he realized that he had no idea where he was to go. John was a member of the assembly and had a seat inside. Cameron did not.

He glanced about and saw galleries above on either side of the wedge-shaped room, but in the front of the chamber something caught his eye. Stairs led to the galleries, as in the back of the room, but between one of the galleries and the stairs was a gate of wrought iron. Behind it, he glimpsed the princess.

Curious, he went behind the dais and ascended the stairs. At the top, he was almost immediately halted by a guard, but his steps had caught her attention. She saw him, and the guard looked back. "Let him enter," she said, moving over a chair in the tiny booth. A young woman stood just behind her, presumably one of the princess' attendants.

"Princess," he said, bowing to her once he'd passed the guards.

"Lord Mitchell. Are you rested this morning?"

He took the vacant seat and nodded. "Yes, my lady. A good night's sleep did wonders."

Carolyn smiled. "I can well understand that."

Cameron looked around the little room curiously. "I know I have only been in Redwater once before," he said, "but I did not know this place existed."

"It is here so members of the royal family may observe discreetly," she explained. "My mother will not be here this morning, so she gave me leave to attend in here."

He thought of the way she had comported herself in Cheyenne, aiding John as she could, and what a challenge it must have been to stand as her father's regent. In light of such struggles, it struck Cameron as particularly unfair that she had no place of her own in the assembly below.

Cameron nodded to Carolyn's companion, but before he could be introduced, the hall below settled and quieted, as though prescient of the king's coming. Indeed, mere moments later, a door in the rear of the room opened and King Henry entered. Instinctively Cameron rose, and the nobles on the floor did as well. He glanced at the princess, who had not stood, but a moment later she got to her feet. "No one will mark you here," she said lowly.

"Certain decorum ought not be ignored," he replied. "No matter who can see."

Carolyn smiled, but showed no signs of condescension in the expression. Cameron felt his neck get warm for no reason, and he was grateful for the relative darkness.

The king took his throne and banged an ivory globe on the arm of the seat. The crack filled the hall three times, and the assembly came to order. In their little perch, Carolyn and Cameron both sat down again, as did the men below. Henry began, "Six months ago we learned that the Goa'uld had crossed the Mearali. Six months ago, Lord Haikon of the Sodan came to us with a proposal which we were in no position to refuse. As you know, we promised the Sodan land in exchange for their blood in fighting the Goa'uld."

At the memory of that day and the battles which followed, Cameron's fingers dug into the arms of his chair. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but the feelings of dread had not lessened with time. He suspected they never would.

"The assembly will not debate the giving of land to them," Henry continued, a note of warning in his tone. "The king will honor his debts."

Fleetingly Cameron thought of the aid from Atalan. While the king had insisted they would not accept infinite aid from their northern neighbors, Cameron wondered how indebted Henry felt and how that debt would be repaid.

"We will take advisement from this assembly on what lands will be ceded to the Sodan, and then we will make the final decision."

There was a moment of fraught silence, and then an eruption of talking from nearly every man in the room.

Again ivory struck wood and the assembly quieted, though grudgingly. "We will hear you in an orderly fashion," Henry said darkly.

A handful of men rose, and one by one they sat down again until the only one remaining was a rotund gentleman with a ruddy complexion. Carolyn leaned over to Cameron and whispered, "The Marquis of Medinah, Lord Thomas."

He nodded, grateful to know whom the king was acknowledging. "Sire," he said, "the west has given enough."

There he paused, no doubt for dramatic effect, but Maybourne, without waiting for permission to speak, called out, "You, who would not deign to come to the front to defend your own people?"

There was a burst of angry, energetic chatter upon that pronouncement and Cameron almost winced. "You do not like the ebb and flow of the assembly's moods?" the princess murmured, though there was a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

"The summit was trying enough, my lady," he answered, softly enough that the lady behind them could not make it out.

"You shall have to tell me about it sometime."

He looked at her quickly, wondering how much her father had disclosed to her about it. Belatedly he realized that it could not have been much, since the king could have only told her about it the previous evening. "I will," he said quietly.

Down below the shouting seemed to be restricted to a few, namely Maybourne, Medinah, and Dixon. Lord David's voice was carrying above the rest. "Do you honestly think, Maybourne," he said, "that my people should continue to sacrifice so that your house will be comfortable?"

At that question the room fell silent. Maybourne's posture was stiff; Cameron could tell even from a distance. "Sir," he said carefully, "I would suggest that the west gained the most from this partnership with the Sodan."

Dixon looked livid, and Cameron wondered why John was saying nothing, though he appeared equally angry. But it was Stephen Caldwell who stood next and faced Maybourne. "Without the Sodan none of us would have survived," he said. "You on the east have perhaps more of a debt to them, for the west suffered what you did not. Sheppard and Dixon have lost more than the rest of us. We cannot bleed them dry."

A brittle silence fell over the hall, and Cameron wondered how many had ever contradicted the Duke of Icaria and lived to tell about it. He looked at his cousin, who had an expression of dark annoyance on his face. It seemed there was little in the world which irked him more than having to think well of Stephen Caldwell.

Yet Maybourne was not finished. "Then who will yield, my lord duke?" he asked, rather impertinently. "You?"

Caldwell said nothing, but only glared at Maybourne. From the expression on the duke's face, Cameron imagined the low growling of a dog just barely restrained from lashing out.

"We will convene again in two days' time," the king announced, ending the discussion before Maybourne could foolishly goad anyone else. "At that time, we will expect proposed schemes to pay our debt." Henry gave them all a warning glance before adding, “And not more petty bickering.”

He cracked the ivory against the throne again, dismissing the assembly. Slowly the men began to disperse. Cameron looked at the princess, who looked unhappy. "Why did your cousin not speak?" Carolyn asked.

"It is not his nature, I suppose. Not in this setting."

"He survived in a foreign court," she protested.

"And once was cast out of this one," Cameron pointed out. Carolyn looked taken aback for a moment. "I cannot blame him for any wariness he might feel."

"He is a better leader than this," Carolyn said, sounding frustrated.

"Yes, he is," he replied. "But he must come to realize this on his own terms, not ours."

"He may not have the time."

With that oblique pronouncement, Carolyn rose. Cameron had barely risen from his chair before she had exited the little booth, her attendant following closely at her heels. He was left in the dark room, wondering what her rush was.

* * *

  
John quit the hall and wandered for a bit around the castle's interior. It had been long enough that he could not remember clearly the path to the outdoors, and he was perhaps not thinking with clarity at the moment. The desire to go back and throttle Maybourne was distracting him.

Lord Thomas at least had sent men to join the king's army, if he had not come himself. Maybourne and the others had dragged their collective feet about sending troops to the front until the Marquis of Sheppard had shamed them into it. John had been willing to use his influence and authority on that point, but sitting in the assembly hall made him vastly uncomfortable.

He could hardly forget that it was in that room that the assembly had pronounced him guilty of murder. Most of the men sitting in that room today had been there then, deciding against him whether for justice or politics or spite, and the king had exiled him for the terrible crime of defending a helpless and abused lady.

John remembered his mother’s tears and the unforgiving fury on his father's face.

Being back here brought all his latent anger to the surface. It was all he could do to hold his tongue this morning as men whose lands were untouched by the devastation of the invasion bickered over yielding an acre of land. Some were using this moment to dredge up old conflicts over borders, not unlike Lord Malchus had in Cheyenne.

John still found politics utterly distasteful, even after all this time.

"Lost already, Lord John?"

He turned around to find Stephen Caldwell looking at him in amusement. He glowered a little. "It's been many years since I had freedom to walk through this place," he said belligerently.

Caldwell had the grace to look slightly chagrined. The duke had sided with the majority in John's trial, but not vocally. More importantly, he had backed up the king's decision to commute the death sentence for murdering a nobleman and exile John instead of ending his life or imprisoning him. Many of Lord Makepeace's allies had been calling for John's blood, but when the second most powerful man in the country had supported the exile, John's life had been spared.

John doubted he would ever have simple feelings about Stephen Caldwell. He had reasons for gratitude for the man, but it had never left John's mind that if Caldwell had opposed the guilty verdict in the first place, John might have been acquitted and the last four years would have been different indeed.

Caldwell gestured and John followed him to the duke's private study. They settled into chairs and John accepted the mug the other man handed to him. He sighed, trying to clear his head. The past was the past, and he needed to take his father's advice and let it go.

"My people owe you a debt, my lord," he said, keeping his voice even by sheer will.

Caldwell waved a hand. "You needed those supplies more than anyone else. I heard the king's report when he returned from his brief stay in Cheyenne. I could not keep food from women and children who were starving in the streets."

That seemed to be as much acknowledgment as Caldwell would make, and John was not particularly inclined to continue to press gratitude onto a man who didn't want it. The conversation turned to Cheyenne and the slow progress of repairs there. John drained his glass and growled in frustration. "Most of it must wait, now, while my cousin and I are both here. I need to journey to the mountains and speak to the herd masters before we can make any further decisions, but given what we saw this morning, I doubt these conferences will end swiftly."

Caldwell nodded. "I saw one of Maybourne's lackeys arguing with Lord Davis earlier this morning about border disputes. I fear this could dredge up every conflict within the kingdom from the past generation."

John groaned. "Meanwhile the Sodan wait interminably and all other business in the country comes to a halt. This bickering is pointless. Someone will need to yield. Why delay the inevitable needlessly?"

The other man shrugged. "Jockeying for position and power is endemic to any court. I'm certain you know that."

The reference to Atalan did not help improve John's mood, but he held his tongue.

Caldwell studied his drink for a moment. "I noticed you gave no opinion during the morning's conference," he said carefully.

John tensed, sensing there was some hidden objective behind the comment. He kept his voice neutral. "Others ended the argument before my voice was needed," he pointed out with a tiny tilt of his head.

Caldwell didn't fall for the dodge, however. "Other than Lord David, the person best able to speak to how little the western lands can afford to lose anything more now is the marquis, who also outranks Dixon in court. Yet he remained silent."

John could feel his temper slipping. "What is your point?"

Caldwell leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "I can appreciate that it is uncomfortable for you to be back here, but has not the time come to put the past away and focus on your duties here and now?"

"What do you think I have been doing the last six months?" John retorted.

"I am not speaking of the necessities of war and survival but the place of the Marquis of Sheppard within the nation. I wonder whether you have yet truly embraced your new role in life, and your responsibilities, Lord John."

"My responsibilities are to my people, Lord Stephen, and they are never from my thoughts," John pointed out.

"And what about your responsibilities to your king?" Caldwell shot back. "You still have not given King Henry your oath after all these months. I am not the only one questioning whether your loyalty truly is with Caldora or not."

John stood up, nearly knocking the chair over in his haste. "What would you have me do, my lord? I swore my fealty to Elizabeth of Atalan, and only she can release me from her service. If I were to vow my loyalty to King Henry I would break faith with her and dishonor myself in the process."

Stephen reflected on that for a moment. "Have you asked?"

John looked up sharply. "What?"

"Have you asked the queen to release you? She must have given at least tacit permission for you to remain here. If she is as intelligent as you keep insisting she is, she must understand your responsibilities to your people and your country. If you were to ask for release, would she be so petty as to deny your petition to resign her service?"

John gaped. He could come up with no answer to such a question, for of course the thought had never occurred to him. Objectively, in such a situation, usually the monarch would release someone from service if other needs arose. Men and women left the service of kings and queens for family reasons all the time.

John had never thought to seek Elizabeth's permission to resign from her service. He didn't want it. Was he not now tortured by the idea that Elizabeth did not care for him? The only tie he had remaining with her and with Atalan was his vow on the day of her coronation.

Now Caldwell was staring at him expectantly, suggesting coldly that John sever that last tie.

It was what duty said he should do, but everything in him rebelled at the thought.

John's hands balled into fists. "Do not speak callously of things you do not understand, my lord duke," he said lowly, before turning and departing without bothering to give any sign of respect. He did not trust himself not to strike out, even though in his heart, John knew it wasn't Caldwell he was so furious with, but himself, Elizabeth and the universe in general.


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron lingered for a while in the quarters he was sharing with John, but John never returned. It was rather frustrating for Cameron, but he supposed John had much to do. He just wished there was something, anything he could contribute now.

The people within the fortress were mobilizing like an army going to war, but the trappings were utterly unfamiliar to Cameron. Everywhere there were people talking, sometimes at the top of their lungs and sometimes at a whisper, but always with great urgency. It was not quite what he had imagined court would be like. Perhaps it was his uncle's prejudice, but Cameron had never really thought of Redwater as being a place where things, great or small, were actually accomplished.

Wishing he had been allowed to stay behind in Cheyenne, he wandered out to one of the training yards within the fortress. He was not surprised to find a handful of Sodan there, training as usual. This time they were not working with swords, however, but with long staffs, in the most unusual dueling Cameron had ever seen. They moved like the rapids of the Mearali, graceful but forceful as they clashed.

Unfortunately, as soon as Cameron's presence was known to them, the entire exercise came to a halt. The man seemingly directing the training focused on Cameron like a hawk. "What is your business here?" he asked.

"He's a friend, Tova," said one of the fighters. Cameron looked at him closely and realized that it was Jolan. "No need to send him away."

"Ah, so you're the one Jolan plucked off the battlefield," Tova said, waving him closer.

Cameron went forward slowly, not sure what to make of this development. "I did not mean to interrupt."

"It is fine, Lord Mitchell," Jolan told him. "I think Geron was in need of a break."

For that, Jolan's sparring partner lightly struck his shoulder. "You shouldn't make challenges you can't withstand."

Jolan rolled his eyes and turned to Cameron. "Are you familiar with this?" he said, hefting the rod.

"Yes, I believe I carried a staff like that while tending sheep as a boy," Cameron replied dryly.

There was some good-natured jeering over that remark, and Jolan smiled. "Well, lord of the shepherds, let us see how you handle this staff."

Cameron was not sure what possessed him to agree to it, but a few minutes later he had one of the long, heavy staffs in his hands. His palms were now bound with leather bands to improve his grip. "Should I not have some sort of armor?" he asked.

"None of us do," Geron pointed out.

"Lord Mitchell had some serious injuries in the war," Jolan said, "but he will survive. If he moves quickly."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Cameron mimicked Jolan's position, holding the staff at an angle across his body. Just as Jolan lunged for the first strike, Cameron saw movement in the entryway, the unmistakable silhouette of a woman. Caught off-guard, he missed Jolan's attack, stumbled backward, and somehow managed to trip over his own feet and fall to the ground.

The Sodan began laughing uproariously, but it died down swiftly as Princess Carolyn entered the yard, shadowed again by one of her attendants. Cameron shoved the staff to one side as the princess knelt beside him, her pale green skirts settling around her. "My lord, have you lost your mind?" she demanded.

"That seems likely, doesn't it?" he replied. "At least I didn't hit my head this time."

He hazarded a glance at her. She smiled, which made him feel a little better.

Carolyn looked at Jolan, who was standing over them. "Help him up," she ordered, standing back herself.

Cameron sat up, and Jolan helped him stand. He grunted, which made Carolyn give him a sharp look, but he shrugged. "Believe me, Princess, it was worse a few days ago."

As they stood there, Cameron brushing dust off himself while Carolyn removed the leather from his hands, the Sodan seemed to take her presence as a signal to end their practicing. They disbanded, taking their equipment with them, and Carolyn's maid retired to a discreet distance. Cameron found himself alone with the princess for the first time since she had come upon him half-undressed in his tent back in the war camp. He forced the memory of that out of his mind and cleared his throat. "So, what brings you here, Highness?"

"I came to observe the Sodan, but I seem to have run them off," she replied ruefully.

He chuckled. "Well, you should feel at least a little pleased with yourself."

"Why?"

"I am sure there are not many in the world who can drive the Sodan to retreat."

Her eyes narrowed. "I am not sure that is so great a compliment."

Cameron smiled anyway. "Next time you should observe from the ramparts," he said, pointing to one of the high walkways along the top of the walls that surrounded them. "This place is not very private, but I think it would be easy to observe discreetly from there."

"I shall keep that in mind." They stood there awkwardly for a moment before the princess looked down and smoothed the bodice of her dress. "I am surprised that your cousin had no need of you, after this morning's session."

He shrugged, somewhat indifferently. "I would be surprised if my cousin had thought so far ahead as to need me."

Carolyn smiled slightly, though the expression did not seem genuine. "He has not been gone from home for so long."

"Princess, he's been gone from home for half of my life," Cameron protested. "And I doubt he would have been inclined to play court games anyway."

She said nothing, but as they stood there in silence he noticed how she kept glancing at him, as though she wanted something but didn't know how to say it. "So what brought you out here?" he asked, almost blurting it out.

To his surprise, she laughed. "Did you not ask me that already, my lord?"

He felt his neck and face warming as soon as he realized that she was right. "Perhaps."

"I would have thought you more practiced in polite conversation than to repeat yourself."

He shot a nervous glance at the young woman standing some feet away. "Not with ladies like you."

She looked surprised. "Like me?"

"It's not as though I had contact with royal ladies, Princess," he told her, though there was more to it than that. Princess Carolyn was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and pretty girls had always left him at a loss for words.

She smiled, though, oblivious to the other reason for his awkwardness. "Would you escort me back, Lord Mitchell?" she asked. "Before you do yourself more harm."

"Of course," Cameron replied, offering her his arm. Her hand slipped around his arm and he tried with all his might to ignore the warmth from it.

* * *

Hours had passed since John had quit Caldwell's company, but he was still glowering at the world.

It had never occurred to him to ask Elizabeth to release him from his oath. Atalan had given him family and a home when his birthplace had taken both from him. Though the task before him in Sheppard was daunting, to abandon his adopted home entirely was preposterous. While the duke's logic was sound, Caldwell had no idea what John had gone through and what Atalan meant to him, for no one who knew would suggest such a thing.

Elizabeth was more to him than a sovereign, more than his friend, more than the woman he was in love with. She was all of these, and she had, in a way, saved him from the bitterness of his life in exile. Were it not for her, he might still be wandering around the continent, his existence lacking in order and meaning. He did not spend much time dwelling on the years of his exile, but truly he had been lost for a long time before he found a purpose and a place in Atalan, in service to the queen.

When he had accepted service to Elizabeth, though, there had been no other claim on him. That was no longer the case. John had had no small part in saving countless lives during the war, even if they still did not understand what had brought the hostilities to so swift an end. He had an important role to play now in the reconstruction, and Caldora was tugging him back with all her might. The fealty he owed to Elizabeth now competed with his obligations to his people. Whatever his feelings towards Caldora and King Henry, he could never completely escape those ties. Caldwell was right. He was Caldoran and always would be.

Was it merely selfish desire to want to go back to Atalan and see Elizabeth again? Realistically, John did not know what he expected could happen. He was fairly certain now that Elizabeth was not engaged to Prince Radek, but she would hardly lack for other suitors. Short of marrying a Goa'uld, he could imagine few other prospective husbands for her that would arouse as much ire as a Caldoran, even one restored to his title as marquis. Not to mention the chaos it would cause in Caldora for him to permanently attach himself to Atalan in such a manner.

All of which ignored the question of whether Elizabeth even returned his feelings. For all he knew she had long forgotten him, though he hoped dearly that was not the case.

And there were so many things in Caldora that required his presence. He needed to provide for the people of Sheppard. Henry, whatever John's personal feelings, needed the support of the marquis. From what had occurred in the chamber this morning, the country needed his leadership.

Was he merely postponing the inevitable, avoiding his duty by clinging to his final tie to Atalan, in defiance of all reason? Perhaps, but the thought of composing a letter to Elizabeth asking her to release him turned his blood cold.

Grumbling to himself, John put aside the larger questions in favor of focusing on what he could resolve right now. He decided it was time to pay a visit to the Sodan, wondering if anyone in the assembly had thought to consult them as to their actual needs in terms of land. A few inquiries led him to the ramparts above the training yards. It was not difficult to find them; he merely followed the laughter wafting through the air.

When he reached it, however, he was so surprised at what he saw that he took a step backward, into the cover of the wide archway of the tower he had just passed through. He could still observe, but the people below were less likely to see him.

The Sodan were clearing away. His cousin, however, was in the courtyard, and standing directly before him was the princess.

Her back was to John, but Cameron's face he could see clearly. Even though part of John's mind was telling him to go, his feet seemed to have rooted in the stonework. He could not even turn his face away. He could not hear them as they spoke, of course, but he saw her tending to something on his hands and heard her laugh, while Cameron seemed abashed. Then Cameron was offering her his arm, and the two walked off together.

Perhaps it was because his mind had been so lately focused on Elizabeth, but suddenly all his previous observations seemed different. John had watched his cousin the last few days, seeing the attentions he paid to the princess and how his eyes lingered on the girl more than they ought. Before this moment, John had not thought it serious, but now he could see echoes of his own attempts to please and amuse a woman in Cameron's actions.

Those had not been attempts at mere friendship for him, so were they for Cameron?

John shook himself, making his feet work and get him out of the archway before anyone came upon him. It was probably nothing, and besides, he had no notion of how Carolyn saw Cameron.

Except that he did. She liked him a great deal. Even John could see that.

Heading down the stairs, he sighed, hoping against hope that this would not come to a head until long after the current crisis had passed.

* * *

Carolyn found herself persuaded rather easily to give Lord Mitchell a tour of the palace, or at least part of it. Though he had been here before, there had been little time for such niceties. She looked back on the day they had met as from another life, almost. Both of them, it seemed, had stepped out of a comfortable existence into new roles, though she felt they were both still experiencing growing pains.

She dismissed Lady Alison, the lady-in-waiting who had been with her most of the day, in order to put Cameron more at ease. Carolyn had shown him several places in the palace when they came into a secluded courtyard with ivy-covered walls and a little spring bubbling up in one corner. It was always a little cooler there in warm weather, something she was rather grateful for at the moment. "This is the oldest part of the palace, if the stories are to be believed," she explained to Cameron as they walked up to the spring. "You may see for yourself where the name of this city came from."

He smiled. "The water looks to be red."

Carolyn nodded. "Very good, my lord."

He made a face, though playfully. "Yes, I am told I learned the names of colors with surprising alacrity when I was a child."

For a second time in this encounter, he made her laugh aloud. While she pondered the rarity of that, he guided her to a small bench and they sat down in the cool shade of the courtyard. "You asked me to tell you about the summit this morning," he said, sobering.

Carolyn looked about quickly. The place was secluded, but the palace was packed with people. Then again, she realized that if anyone spotted them in this little courtyard, their assumption would likely be that Lord Mitchell was pressing a suit with her, not telling her of a secret diplomatic mission. The thought made her blush a little.

Sometimes she truly hated being a princess.

"If you are willing to tell me, I would love to hear," she said.

He nodded. "I am, but you should talk with your father, or with Sir Malcolm. I believe they both gained more from the conference than I."

Carolyn wondered if this self-deprecation was part of Cameron's nature or if he was truly so out of his element, but she said nothing of it. "I am sure I will, at some point," she replied. "These last few years Father has been particularly mindful of my education in political matters."

He rubbed his hand over the back of his head, looking a little sheepish. "Is there anything in particular you wish you know, Princess?" he asked. "I am not trying to be obstinate, but I am not sure where to begin."

"What topics were discussed?" she asked. "What concessions were made? What was the tone of the conversations? What kind of debt do we owe them?"

Lord Mitchell blinked several times, and Carolyn looked away, embarrassed by her eagerness. "Forgive me, sir," she said. "There is much I wish to know."

"No need to apologize," he told her gently. "I will tell you as best I can."

He proceeded to talk about the sessions he had observed. Carolyn did her best to hold her tongue while he spoke, but occasionally she interrupted him with questions, trying to better her understanding of what had passed. As his narrative went on, it seemed that her questions were helping him understand it all as well.

Finally, she asked him something she had been dying to know for almost six months. "And what of the queen? What manner of woman is she?"

At that Cameron sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking as though he had struggled with that question for some time. "I know she impressed your father."

"That may be an answer, but it tells me almost nothing," Carolyn replied dryly.

To her surprise, he chuckled. "You know, the king accused me of giving him highly diplomatic answers."

"Then do not make me order you to speak plainly, my lord, as I'm sure my father did."

His expression turned thoughtful. "She is a woman of deep empathy," he replied. "When I had to tell her of Cheyenne, she immediately offered any assistance in her power."

"I am told her reaction to the invasion was much the same," Carolyn said, watching him closely.

Cameron nodded. "As was I, though perhaps by a different source." He looked away. "She is a beautiful woman, undeniably beautiful. She is intelligent and charismatic as well, and clearly devoted to her people."

"But?" Carolyn prompted, sensing that something bothered him.

"She is very young," he told her. "Younger than you, even. I know I am hardly in a position to use youth as a determining factor, but she is young and naïve about some things and even sheltered. I got the impression that she has seen and heard very little of the world when it was not first strained through someone else's opinion."

Carolyn was surprised to hear so much nuance from him when he claimed to understand so little about places like Redwater, but she let that pass un-remarked upon. "So you were not as impressed as my father was," she said.

"I think he saw the makings of a great ruler, and I agree," Cameron replied. "But most of all I cannot understand what quality of hers inspires my cousin's unswerving loyalty. In that respect she disappointed me, for that was what I most wished to know."

"Have you considered asking Lord John?" Carolyn asked.

He gave her a dubious look. "Have you seen how John reacts when anyone questions him about her?"

At that Carolyn had to laugh, though the reminder made her uncomfortable. "I withdraw the question then, my lord."

She stood, causing him to get up as well, though his reaction was a little less practiced than most noblemen she encountered. "Thank you, Lord Mitchell," she said, touching his arm. "Perhaps this was not how I intended to spend my time today, but I am glad it transpired this way."

"As am I, my lady."

* * *

John returned to his room to find his cousin lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was dark, as the sun was nearly set, but no lamps were lit. John wondered what Cameron was thinking of here alone, whether it was Princess Carolyn or something else.

After a moment he realized they were both staring at each other. "What is it?" he asked at the same moment Cameron said almost the same thing.

They both laughed and the tension broke. John did not want to speak of the suspicions which had come on him abruptly earlier in the day. He wanted time to observe Cameron's behavior more first. He turned towards their meager belongings, hunting for a more formal tunic. "What keeps you brooding in the dark, cousin?"

"I was not brooding," Cameron contradicted irritably. John shot him a look over his shoulder and he sighed. "May I ask you something?"

"You can ask. I don't guarantee an answer."

Cameron's thoughts were not so lighthearted, unfortunately. "Why did you not speak up during the assembly this morning?"

John froze. The question was almost the same as Caldwell had asked, but he doubted Cameron would be contented with the same answer. He also doubted his cousin had some ulterior motive for asking. "The conference ended before I felt my input necessary."

Cameron seemed to consider that for a moment. "I wondered if it had to do with the exile."

John looked at the embroidered tunic he was holding. He had acquired it in Atalan, so as to be presentable when called to the queen's presence. Once his wardrobe had been full of such items, in another life. "I admit, it was difficult not to think of it, sitting in that chamber again."

"That is what I told the princess." John raised his eyebrows. Cameron looked somewhat abashed. "I was seated with her in one of the galleries. She was... frustrated when you did not speak."

"She was quite young when it happened. I doubt she remembers it clearly. For all her understanding, I do not think she can comprehend what being thrown from my own country meant." He kept watch on Cameron's reaction to this statement from the corner of his eye, but the younger man's thoughts were not with the princess.

"Is that what you think of me as well?"

"Cameron –"

"I was with my uncle and aunt after you were exiled, John," Cameron said with a hint of anger. "I saw the cost to them and to our people daily."

"I know," John said in a placating tone. "I also know you were a great comfort to my parents during that time." Cameron looked mollified, but John could not keep from adding, "But you were left behind. You cannot grasp what it is to be thrown from your home and lands, permanently, so far as you knew. Not after sacrificing so much for it."

His cousin slumped a little at that, a silent concession. But he continued to look at John keenly, so once his tunic had been changed, John blew out an exasperated breath. "Whatever else it is you wish to know, spit it out, Cameron."

He coughed slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Was that the reason... is that why you are so fierce in your loyalty to Atalan?" Seeing John's expression change, Cameron held up his hands. "I just wish to understand what it is about the country that maintains such a hold on you. You have not spoken much of what happened there, and while I found the queen everything respectable and fair, I cannot explain your feelings to myself, much less to anyone else."

John sighed and sat down on the other bed. He thought back over his time in Atalan, how he could explain his loyalties not just to Elizabeth, but the country itself, in a way Cameron might understand. "When I first neared Atlantis, I stopped in a village called Athos. That very night, the village was attacked by raiders coming from the sea. I did what I could to aid them, and Lady Teyla – she is the Countess of Athos – procured me an audience with the princess in thanks. I had done nothing more than what I was able, but I was thanked almost embarrassingly well for it."

Cameron looked skeptical. John added, "It is no small thing, Cameron, to be esteemed for your own worth, rather than for rank or power. When it became known in the court of Atlantis that I was Caldoran, it would have been more expedient for many of the nobility to spurn me." He did not add that, politically, Elizabeth had paid a price for their association, but he remembered the sensation of her fingers on his brow, the day she had forgiven him for his secret. "Some of them did, but most didn't. I am not saying the risk was equivalent," he added hastily. "But honest acceptance was all I felt I could ask for in the world, and it was given."

Cameron eyed him, still not looking convinced. John wondered what his cousin would say if the entire truth was laid before him. Before either of them could speak further, though, there was a knock on the door. A page appeared, reminding them that supper would be served soon.

His cousin blinked. "Supper?"

John stood. "We have been invited to dine at the king's table tonight. It will be a formal meal with many of the nobles and their families in attendance."

Cameron sighed. "I do not suppose my injury will excuse me from sitting at table with these people?" he asked plaintively.

John chuckled. "No, though it may get you out of dancing with the nobles' daughters."

His cousin paled. "Dancing?"

* * *

Unlike the previous night, eating at the king's table was a more lavish affair. Cameron could not stop a pang of guilt thinking of the rations on which the people of Cheyenne were living while the court dined elegantly, but he did his best to put the thought out of his head. The food was quite good, and thankfully he was seated next to Lord David's wife, Lady Juliana, who was engaged in speaking with another lady, and so left Cameron to eat and observe in peace.

John was seated at the right hand of Princess Carolyn. Lord Stephen was on the queen's left. It was only proper, the two men being the most powerful lords in attendance this evening, but Cameron doubted the seating arrangements were an accident. From the conversation he overheard from Lady Juliana, many tongues were wagging over John's proximity to the princess.

It seemed half the court was expecting a marriage announcement any day, though John and Carolyn were more or less still strangers to one another. The suppositions irritated Cameron. He did not like hearing people conjecture about his cousin this way, nor the princess either.

The meal was long and he spoke a few times with Lady Juliana about the food or the room. Unfortunately, the plates were cleared away and musicians appeared at the far end of the room. John had been right about the rest of the evening's entertainments.

Obeying etiquette, John stood and accepted Carolyn's outstretched hand and led her to the dance floor. Cameron glanced about the room as the music began and amid the many people gawking at his cousin and the princess, his eye caught on a young woman staring at him. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes, but the hungry way she was looking at him made him uneasy and he looked away.

He heard a low chuckle and Lady Juliana leaned closer. "It seems Lady Reya has cast her eye in your direction, my lord."

"I would not know, my lady," he said confusedly, taking a large drink from his goblet to ensure it wasn't removed by the eager servants.

Juliana grinned. "She is not the only one. I count four pairs of eyes looking longingly this way."

Cameron felt his ears go hot as a blush spread up his neck. "Indeed, that is most, erm, flattering."

Juliana patted his arm in a motherly fashion. "There are not many young and eligible men in court, Lord Mitchell, and even fewer who are genuinely handsome. Add your service to the king and tales of your heroism on the battlefield, and the combination may well prove irresistible."

Cameron wanted rather badly to sink into the earth. He had spent most of the day with the princess or the Sodan or alone, so he had not found himself in company with many of the nobility until now. Juliana's assessment of his situation left him fighting the impulse to flee.

A moment later she spoke more urgently. "You should decide now, my lord, whether you are up for dancing or no, for Lady Isolde approaches with her daughter."

"I'm sorry?"

Her smile was wry. "If there is some lady whose hand you would take this evening, you will need to suffer being partner to others as well. Or we can plead your injuries as an excuse and you can sit out, but to refuse one and accept another will probably not lead to any good result."

When he had time to think, Cameron would be grateful for her counsel, but in the moment he looked towards the small group of couples moving swiftly around the improvised dance floor. His eye lingered on Carolyn, who was spinning gracefully on John's arm.

His stomach tightened unpleasantly, and he looked away.

"I fear I am not equal to any exertion just now, my lady," he told Juliana quietly.

She gave him a quizzical look, but then a tall, imperious-looking woman stopped nearby. Trailing at her elbow was a girl who could not have been much older than Valencia. Cameron's queasy feeling increased.

When pressed, Juliana introduced him. He managed to rise enough to bow politely. Lady Isolde looked at him with a calculating expression. "You are not joining in the dancing this evening, Lord Mitchell?"

"Ah, no, my lady, I fear I cannot," he stammered.

"Lord Mitchell was gravely injured in the final battle with the Goa'uld, Lady Isolde," Juliana put in. "And he and his cousin only arrived from Cheyenne late last night. I'm sure Lord John would be most unhappy if Lord Mitchell risked reopening his wounds by too much exertion."

The disappointment on the girl's face was almost comical. Cameron had no idea how to convey his gratitude to Juliana as she politely encouraged Lady Isolde and her daughter to move on.

Before he could attempt to find words that were not incoherent, Lord David approached. "I hope you have no plans of asking my wife for a dance, Mitchell, for I don't share well."

Juliana shot her husband a withering look. "If I choose to dance with the handsomest man in attendance, you are not going to stop me."

David seized her hand and tugged her to her feet. "That's why you're going to dance with me, my lady."

The pair moved away, laughing and arguing. Cameron seized the opportunity to relocate his seat to a corner of the hall, where Lord Davis was casting baleful looks towards Lord Maybourne. Well out of the way of the flow of the evening, he listened sympathetically to Paul and watched as John patiently danced with a number of blushing young ladies of the court. There was a small eruption of whispering when the princess asked for him a second time.

Cameron glanced towards the king and his wife, who were watching impassively. He wondered if he might beg for leave to go, given his recent injuries. To be sure, he wasn't in any real pain at the moment, but sitting on a hard bench in a crowded room could not be good for his health.

He was about to ask Paul for advice on the propriety of his departing when there was a noise in the corridor and a page came in and spoke to the king. The older man's face turned grave, and Cameron saw Malcolm Barrett appear at the king's side from somewhere.

Barrett left a moment later and Cameron was too curious to resist. He caught King Henry's eye a moment and tilted his head towards the door slightly, silently asking permission to quit the room. The king nodded and Cameron hastened after Barrett gratefully.

As he left the hall behind, he heard a new set of noises. Following them outside, he stopped short. A long train of wagons, horses and people was walking through the main gates of the castle. Though it was dusk and only torchlight was available to see by, he recognized the clothing.

The remainder of the Sodan had arrived. Cameron watched as Barrett and some of the other servants began to direct wagons to various parts of the large yard on the side of the castle. Throughout the chaos, he glimpsed the warriors reuniting with their families. He moved around the edge of the courtyard until he spied a familiar figure.

"Lord Mitchell," Jolan greeted him. His arm was around the shoulders of a lovely woman with high cheeks and dark eyes, and two children clung to his trousers. "Come and meet my wife."

Cameron stepped forward and bowed as he was introduced. The little girl remained close to her parents but Jolan's son took his fingers from his mouth long enough to ask, "Are you a warrior?"

Cameron smiled genuinely for the first time all evening. "I am, young sir."

Jolan swung the boy up on his shoulders, to his shrieking delight. Cameron watched the family with pleasure, but his eyes swung around the bustling courtyard. The Sodan were no longer a small group of warriors lurking in Redwater Castle. This was a sovereign people who were preparing to bed down in a courtyard because the Caldorans had not yet fulfilled their promise to Haikon. Though the mood here was joyful, he could not help comparing them to the people of Cheyenne, sleeping in the streets and open air, waiting for their homes to be rebuilt.

He excused himself from Jolan to find Barrett and be sure whatever measures could be taken for the comfort of the new arrivals were being done. The presence of the Sodan as a group was going to change the dynamics of the debate within the walls come morning, he felt certain.

* * *

A day had passed since the king had made his pronouncement to the college. If anyone was making progress in coming up with some proposal fulfilling the promise to the Sodan, Henry was certainly unaware of it. The arrival of the Sodan people the previous night had only added to the desperation of the situation.

In walking from one end of the palace to the other, he had picked up quite a retinue. They were gathering increasing attention, for behind him were Harold Maybourne and Paul Davis, both of whom were very close to screaming at the top of their lungs.

"The Rymer Valley has been part of my province for generations, Maybourne!" Davis was saying, again. "My great-grandfather built a home there! This is absurd and –"

"And I have documentation which places the valley in the province of Maybourne long before your great-grandfather started building on land which was not lawfully his," interrupted Maybourne angrily.

While the argument continued, Malcolm Barrett leaned over and said lowly, "Sire, we have passed that statue three times now."

"I know that," Henry replied, finally finding some amusement in the situation. "I don't think they do."

They passed the statue for the fourth time without comment from the squabbling lords behind him, so Henry halted at the nearest stairwell. "Gentlemen," he said, silencing them. "Davis, come with me. Barrett, throw Maybourne from the nearest tower if he attempts to follow us."

Maybourne protested but Barrett took care of the matter while Davis followed Henry to his study. "Lord Davis," he said when the door was closed, "we were concerned when you had nothing to say in yesterday's assembly."

Davis took a step back, almost involuntarily. "My lord, I have been caught in this dispute with Maybourne almost since the moment he returned to Redwater."

Henry walked up very close to Davis. "Are you my ally, Paul, or are you more concerned with your own interests?"

"I have a duty to my province," Davis replied, his jaw tight.

"You have a duty to your country and to your king." Henry stepped back and turned away. "I need allies, Paul. You've been an ally through worse fights than this. You are one of the brightest minds in this court. I cannot envision a solution being discovered if you allow yourself to be consumed with this one squabble."

"My lord," Davis said, clearly exasperated enough to be driven to brutal honesty. "I know you want the assembly to resolve this, but do you believe the Sodan will have their recompense without you imposing it?"

Henry narrowed his eyes at that. Though the man was probably right, he was not ready to accept that end. "Go to work, sir."

Davis paused a moment but bowed respectfully. "Thank you, my lord."

He left, and Henry exhaled heavily. There was truly no good solution to this mess, he thought as he sat down in the chair before the empty fireplace. At this point, he could only hope that it would not come out that he had been in Atalan a few weeks earlier, as that was not likely to go over well with certain members of the nobility who were already agitated. Unfortunately, such revelations always seemed to happen at the worst possible moments.

He was thinking about his meetings with the queen when the door to the study opened again. "Henry," said his wife, and he opened his eyes to see her at the door. "Lord John of Sheppard has a message for you."

The man was behind the queen, and Henry beckoned them both in. John stood near the door with his arms crossed over his chest. "It is not critical news, but I have had word from the border scouts," he said. "No sign of activity from the Goa'uld."

Henry got to his feet, though reluctantly. "That's the first good news I've had all day."

John smiled a little. "I have heard that Maybourne and Davis were near to drawing weapons on each other this morning."

"It is a convenient time to grouse about borders," Henry said ruefully.

"Indeed. In Cheyenne, one of the lords took it upon himself to devise a new layout entirely for the city after the fires were out."

Henry raised a brow. "I assume his motives were not altruistic."

"Hardly," John drawled. "The design of the city would have made more sense than the old way, but Lord Malchus would have undercut most of his rivals with a map."

The idea of a map having so much power was laughable, but Henry knew it was true from time to time. "So what did you do?"

"The Countess of Cimmeria _happened_ to go to the Asgard, who were more than happy to lend their expertise to the question of how best to rebuild. We will have a more efficient city, and Malchus was put in his place."

"Happened," Henry repeated with a small smile. "Well played, my lord."

John shrugged, but he seemed pleased with the praise as well.

He took his leave shortly thereafter, and Henry was left alone with his wife. "You are worried," she said, "that you will not find a solution to this in time."

"Haikon has put me in an awkward place," he confessed, leaning against the table. "I have not the stomach to impose anything on them in this matter. I will if I must, of course, but were I not king I would be protesting just as loudly at the thought of ceding my ancestral land when most of the country did not have to."

"There is an unfairness to it," Aurelia agreed. "But I do not know how you would spread the sacrifice."

"Nor do I, but perhaps they will surprise me." Henry held out his hand to her, and she came across the room and placed her hand in his. "I seem to have had many surprises in the last six months, not the least of which is you."

Her cheeks flushed faintly, an expression that reminded him of days more than twenty years past, when she had been a young woman and he had fallen hopelessly in love. "What compelled you to come, Aurelia?"

"Our daughter asked," she replied, rather bluntly. "And it was the right thing to do."

Henry raised his hand to her cheek then, though the gesture was not as confident as it had once been. "And what compelled you to stay?"

She smiled. "I had it on good authority that you needed me."

"Our daughter can be terribly meddlesome sometimes," he grumbled.

"Henry." He looked up, and she leaned in and kissed him. Her hands rested on his shoulders and his arms went around her back before long, and Henry allowed himself to indulge in this moment of distraction from the burden he carried in leading a country which did not want to be led.

Perhaps Carolyn was right. He did need Aurelia. He always had.

Aurelia drew away from his mouth but stayed in his embrace. "I have a few reasons of my own," she admitted, and Henry had to laugh.

* * *

At breakfast, Carolyn asked her father if she could oversee whatever needs their new arrivals had. Father had been relieved, for he had had the same thought. It gave her a way to pass the morning, largely without scrutiny from the palace's other occupants.

As the noon hour approached, however, Lady Juliana Dixon hovered near the entrance to one of the courtyards. Carolyn feared it would rain that evening and was trying to find places within the fortress to house all of the newcomers. It would be a relief when the matter of land was decided and the Sodan could settle there instead of in whatever space was available in an already crowded city.

Juliana waited until Carolyn had finished with the latest problem and smiled sympathetically at her. "You are a credit to your parents, Princess," said the older woman. "And an asset too. I am not displeased to see your father putting you to good use now."

Carolyn took Juliana's arm and they began to walk together. "I am glad to have something to do," Carolyn admitted. "I was beginning to wonder why my father summoned me. There is little I can do to help in the assembly."

"Perhaps you doubt your own influence with certain parties."

She blushed a little then. "My lady, I am not one to toy with men for political purposes, or allow myself to be used in such a fashion."

"That is not what I meant," Juliana replied. "And I apologize. I merely meant that I believe there are several men in the assembly who respect your opinion and believe you have a great deal to contribute."

"Do you know something I do not?" Carolyn asked.

"My husband told me you visited the wounded when you took supplies to the war camp," she said, looking away. "I know David appreciated that a great deal, and said he did not think there were that many women who could have stomached it."

Carolyn was still somewhat amazed that she had. Some of the wounds were awful to see, and more than once she had been conscripted to help with some emergency simply because hers were the nearest hands. The experience had been worthwhile, however, and she would do it again in a heartbeat, though she hoped she would never have to.

"And there are others," Juliana continued. "I may not have such close knowledge of other men's opinions, but I believe I have observed a few with high opinions of you. Lord Davis never once balked at taking an order from you when the city was in your care. And if I may, I would say that Lord Mitchell seems rather impressed by you as well. I understand he depended on you yesterday for guidance during the assembly."

"Who told you that?"

"David spotted you with him and guessed why you were talking with each other. More than once during the day, actually."

"Yes, we – we did spend some time together yesterday," Carolyn replied, thinking grimly of the rumors that might be circulating through the court. "He is very new to all of this, and there are few whom he would ask for help."

Juliana nodded but said nothing else of Cameron. Instead, she said, "I believe his cousin holds your opinion in high regard as well."

"I am less certain," Carolyn replied hesitantly. "He never seems the same from one day to the next."

"There is much on his mind, I am sure," said the countess. "But he danced with you twice last night."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Tell me you do not place such importance on that."

"At the very least he is a good dancer," Juliana teased. "He was attentive to you, was he not?"

"Yes, as were any number of other men."

"True, but he seems to be a remarkable man."

Carolyn nodded in agreement. "We could do with more men like him," she replied. She was still bothered by his silence in the assembly, but that could change. He could grow into the role. Other men had done it, including her father.

More than once, in fact.

"Is it ever far from your mind?" Juliana asked lowly, and Carolyn looked at her in confusion. She elaborated, "The fact that you possess such a unique power in this country, and yet in other ways you are very much subject to the whims of the men around you."

She was momentarily thrown by Juliana's directness, but she recovered swiftly. "No, it is not far from my mind," Carolyn admitted. "Sometimes I wonder how I can expect to find a king in these halls."

"Well, I would say you need not find a king." At another curious look, Juliana added, "You need to find a prince. A prince can be made into a king."

"Is there a surfeit of princes wandering these halls, Lady Juliana?" Carolyn asked dryly.

"No, but there are a few," she replied, laughing. "You need only learn how to tell the princes from the frogs, like in the fairy story we heard as children."

Carolyn slowed to a halt, the countess with her. Juliana said, "Lord John is to dine with David and the children and me tonight. You are welcome to join us."

"Thank you, but I cannot," Carolyn replied, almost automatically. "I am already engaged for supper tonight."

"If anything changes, there will be a seat open for you."

Juliana took her leave then, and Carolyn went back to her work, forgetting about luncheon entirely as her mind dwelt on the idea Juliana had planted in her head.


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Juliana had invited John to dine with her and her husband, so Cameron found himself adrift for the evening. John had asked Cameron if he should ask the countess to extend the invitation to him, but Cameron had declined. After the previous night, he rather wished to eat in as much privacy and peace as was manageable. As he made his way to one of the dining halls, he saw Jolan coming down the corridor in the opposite direction. He nodded in greeting and would have continued on his way, but Jolan stopped him. "Mitchell," he said, "are you engaged for supper this evening?"

"No, why?"

"Come with me. We have an extra seat."

All the way to supper, Cameron kept marveling to himself at the way this had transpired. After the battle at the Otero River he had, like most of the men in the army, been busy burying the dead. At some point, he had wandered over to the Sodan and begun digging with them. They had been grateful for the help, and it was there that Cameron had befriended Jolan. His curiosity about the Sodan had saved his life, probably. Otherwise he didn't know if Jolan would have been there to pluck him from the battlefield and take him away to be cared for.

Now, while the whole palace was seemingly obsessed with the Sodan, for good or ill, it was Cameron who was singled out by them.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Meals among soldiers tended to be lively and loud whether in camp or at home, Cameron had noticed, and this one was no exception. The presence of their families after a long separation possibly explained some of the mood in the room. Before long, even he was laughing at jokes and telling his own stories. Eventually, though, the food was consumed, the table was cleared, and he found himself seated at a smaller table with Jolan and a small group of Sodan warriors, including Lord Haikon. He suspected this was not an accident.

Cameron glanced nervously at Jolan, who nodded to him surreptitiously. He looked to the head of the table. "Lord Haikon," he said, "thank you for permitting me to join your people tonight."

Haikon nodded once. "We are pleased to have you join us, Lord Mitchell, to celebrate the reunion with our families. Of course, it is our hope not to be pensioners on the court's will for much longer," he added, his meaning clear in the serious expression on his face.

Cameron rubbed his palms down his thighs to keep them from getting clammy. He had the strong feeling his invitation had not been by chance. Aloud, he only said, "Sir, I would gladly support your claim, but I have no vote in the assembly."

"I know," Haikon said, in the tone of a man being overly patient. "But you have a cousin, whom Jolan tells me is as close to you as a brother. He has been away from this country for some time, and I imagine he must be dependent upon you for advice."

Cameron glanced at Jolan, wondering what else the young man had said, and then turned his eyes back to Haikon. Wary, he asked, perhaps too bluntly, "What do you want?"

* * *

Supper with Lord John was pleasant enough, but David Dixon could see the relief on John's face when Juliana herded their children off to bed. The man was clearly not accustomed to the chaos attendant on dealing with small children, and David could admit that his offspring were sometimes a handful. He was looking forward to getting them home, if for no other reason than being able to let them loose out of doors again. They had spent far too much time inside here in Redwater.

With the children gone and Juliana not likely to return for some time, David reached for a bottle of rum and two glasses. John held his hand up. "None for me. The last time I had that stuff I had a horrible headache the next morning."

"What drove you to the bottle?" David asked.

"Stephen Caldwell."

David chuckled. "He has that effect on people." He set the bottle and glasses aside. "Was there anything particular, or just his winning personality?"

"It was the same argument it always is," John replied, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "My loyalty to Henry of Landry."

David said nothing at first, watching John's face and body language. Whether John liked it or not, there were whispers all around the court about him and his agenda in Caldora. It was well known that John had not sworn an oath to the king even though he had had every opportunity. David could not begin to imagine what the Queen of Atalan must have done to inspire such unswerving allegiance in him.

He was thinking about other topics to bring up when there was an urgent knock on the door. David jumped up to answer it, and to his surprise Cameron Mitchell was in the corridor, his hand poised to knock again. "Lord Mitchell, what is the matter?" he asked.

"I need to speak to my cousin," Cameron said, pushing through even though he had not been asked in. "John."

"Cameron?" John got to his feet.

"The Sodan came to me," he said bluntly. "They want to make a deal with you."

"Preposterous," David said immediately. "Has Sheppard not lost enough already?"

John, surprisingly, took a more measured approach. "What kind of deal?"

"Land for manpower," Cameron replied. "In exchange for land, they will provide laborers in the reconstruction of Cheyenne."

David looked sharply at John, who looked as though he dared not hope this thing was true. "They must be joking."

Cameron shook his head vehemently. "No, cousin. They will rebuild the city if we give them the southern tip of the province."

"How much land are they talking about?" David asked.

The young man swallowed quickly. "They might be talked down, but they proposed the entire basin, south of Cheyenne."

David's eyes widened, and John turned away, walking to the window and standing there with his back to the room. It was a daunting amount of land to be given up, and it was rich, fertile farmland. Even with the prospect of an army to help John rebuild his capital, this was not a decision to be made lightly, and David wondered that he was even considering it at all.

"John," Cameron said quietly, "there's hardly anyone left in the basin now. Our people traded crops for herds many generations ago, and after the Ori took so many... John, it's worth it."

John looked back at them then, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I will hear them," he said. "I may not agree to this, but I will hear them."

Cameron nodded. "They are waiting."

The two men left with little ceremony, and Dixon, still slightly amazed at the conversation he had just witnessed, poured himself a drink after all.

Juliana came back a few minutes later. "Was Lord John unwell?" she asked without preamble.

"No," David replied, sitting down. "Something arose which needed his attention."

"I hope it is nothing serious."

"We will see."

Juliana stood there looking at him in concern, so he beckoned her closer. When she was in reach, he tugged her down to his lap. She looked a little annoyed at him but set her arm about his shoulders anyway. "What happened, David?" she asked pointedly.

He looked at her and sighed. "I am not sure I should disclose it."

"If it has to do with the Sodan, I imagine I shall know soon enough," she said. "Do you know what has me most curious in all of this?"

"No, but I believe you are about to tell me."

"The province of Makepeace," she said, ignoring his teasing. "The king has yet to name someone viscount there. Would it not be easier to give that land to the Sodan?"

"There would be many displaced people," David said, even as he realized that Makepeace was along the southern border of Sheppard and the parcel of land which the Sodan were asking Lord John for. "I also doubt the land would be enough for the Sodan." However, if joined with land from Sheppard, he had to admit the Sodan would be able to carve their own nation out of Caldora without doing much more than bending the country's border around them. It would also put the Sodan between Redwater and the Goa'uld.

Juliana tilted her head as in acquiescence. "It would be a start."

"A start that is not adjacent to Dixon, I would point out."

His wife smiled, a little sheepishly. "I am only human, David."

"Something I have observed in you several times," he replied, leaning in to kiss her.

There was a cry then from the children's chamber and with an impatient sigh, Juliana went to investigate. As she left, David thought about the sacrifice John seemed poised to make and wondered if he, in the same position, would be anywhere near as willing to give up ancestral lands to near-strangers.

He doubted it, but as the evening went on, he began to wonder if there was something he could do to make that burden easier to bear.

* * *

A long conversation with Lord Haikon left John in dire need of open air and privacy. The castle was sweltering even in the night, and it would be a few months yet before Redwater cooled off. John found himself somewhat amazed that he actually missed Atlantis for its weather, especially given how often he had been teased over the subject. Even though the winter had seemed unending, the crisp air of autumn had been a delight.

He wandered to the north end of the palace, to one of the smaller towers which no longer harbored watchmen. Once alone on the roof, he let out an exhausted sigh. He was satisfied with his arrangement with Haikon. Others in Caldora might look askance on the Sodan, but John had been without any earth to call his own. He knew what being so unsettled meant, and the chance to offer a permanent home to these people was not one he could turn away from. Also, it offered a solution to his problems here. Hopefully he could soon return to Cheyenne, where he could do something and not see constant reminders of the court he had sworn loyalty to in how it contrasted to this one.

It was not until now, however, that he realized why he had been feeling distracted and worn all day. This was Elizabeth's birthday, the first anniversary of her coronation. He could imagine the celebration her friends had planned for her. He did not think she would want a lavish affair like the celebration of her coronation, but he could see a gathering not unlike her dinner at Solstice. Small, intimate, and full of love.

She might even look wistfully at the place he had occupied then.

John scrubbed his face with one hand. There was a hollowness in his chest as he thought about what she must be doing now. He loved her still, and if his heart could not waver, then neither could his loyalties. Even though his people's lives were dependent upon his leadership, he could not give up his ties to Atalan yet.

He was trying to turn his mind from Elizabeth to the firestorm sure to erupt the next morning in the assembly when the trap door on the tower's roof opened a crack. John hurried over to lift it, and to his surprise, Princess Carolyn was ascending the ladder beneath it. He offered his hand to help her up. "Lord John," she said, "I was told you were up here."

"Is your father looking for me?" he asked as she stepped onto the roof.

"No, I was looking for you."

As John stooped to close the trap again, he looked at her in confusion. "You?"

"There are rumors that you were seen speaking to the Sodan," she said. "I thought I would come to the horse's mouth."

John rolled his eyes, but he felt somewhat reluctant to give the princess the specifics of his conversation with Haikon. "I spoke with them, yes. We are both eager to find a resolution to this situation. The Sodan need a permanent place to settle, and my cousin and I need to return to Cheyenne."

She looked stricken for a moment, and hastily said, "I hope you will not absent yourself entirely from court, my lord, though I know well how badly you are needed at home."

John did not remark on her use of the word "home"; instead he sighed heavily. "There is much work to do if my people are to survive the winter."

They stood there in silence for some time, John staring into the distance. "My lord," she finally said, softly. John turned to her, and she seemed to flush. "I do not think I had a chance to tell you how much I admired the way you comported yourself in Cheyenne, amid such chaos."

"You would not have thought so had you arrived a week earlier," John protested, his ears getting warm. "You did not see the worst of it."

"I saw the aftermath. That was enough," she replied, stepping closer to him. "You seem to have quite the skill at handling crises and caring for your people. It is a trait to be envied in a leader. I was most pleasantly surprised to find it in you."

The tone of her voice, if nothing else, ought to have been a warning to John, but his thoughts had been so scattered and far-flung that he never saw it coming.

She balanced herself with a hand on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his. After a moment of shock, John grabbed her wrist and pushed her back, staring at her with his jaw dropped. In her eyes he saw an odd mixture of hope and worry in her expression, and he feared that he could guess her intentions. Slowly, he released her arm. "Princess?"

"Forgive my boldness, my lord," she said, her words a little rushed. "I thought that might make my point better than any speech could."

Irrationally, at that moment all John could think of was how Elizabeth could have made a speech that would have made that point as well as any kiss. "Princess, this –"

"Have you not thought of this, John?" she interrupted. "You were cast away for something which was not a crime, but now you are restored. Did you know that the reports from the battles painted you as a hero at every turn? The king's right hand, almost. Would this not be the sweetest revenge?"

"That is no reason to marry, Princess," he said sharply, turning around and almost scolding her for the idea. Certainly he knew that her marriage would likely be political rather than personal, but there was no reason for her to pursue such a union on these terms.

"Perhaps not," she conceded. "But I am offering myself to you anyway."

John shook his head. "This is not what I want."

She took a step closer, and John resisted the urge to take a step back. "Do you not see, my lord?" she asked. "I am offering you a kingdom."

He rubbed his hand across his mouth, almost unconsciously. His throat was terribly dry. "It is not what I want," he repeated. "And I doubt it is what you truly want either. I could not inflict this upon either of us."

Without waiting for her to formulate a reply, John left the tower roof. He should have offered to escort her elsewhere, since she was seemingly alone, but he felt even less composed now than when he'd come up to the roof. Decorum was far from the forefront of his mind.

He went through the palace without thinking where he was going, coming to his chambers more by chance than purpose. Cameron was within, probably having been there since they left the conference with the Sodan. His cousin took one look at John's countenance and said, "John, has something happened?"

He sat down on the edge of his bed and started tugging at his boots. Remembering his suspicions about Cameron and Carolyn, he sighed. There was no way he was confiding in his cousin tonight.

"Ask me again in about twenty years, Cameron."

* * *

The corridors were practically buzzing with rumors as Henry made his way to the assembly chamber the next morning. Lord Davis said that Lord Mitchell had dined with the Sodan, and he and Lord John were said to have met with Haikon privately. Some servant girl told Aurelia that the princess had been seen speaking with Lord John later in the night, but Carolyn had taken her breakfast alone and neither Henry nor his wife had seen their daughter yet this morning, which was unusual.

Then just as he set off for the meeting, Lord David reported that Lord Mitchell had come to his cousin with a proposal from the Sodan for some sort of trade – labor for land.

It could not be true, Henry thought as he prepared himself to enter the room. Of all the provinces in Caldora, Sheppard had lost the most to the Goa'uld, both in possessions and in men. Her capital lay in ruins and was on the brink of starvation. Though others had lost men, Sheppard had borne the brunt of the invasion. The idea that Lord John would damage his own lands further after such loss was madness.

None of which precluded the possibility that the Sodan had simply secured themselves a powerful ally in the marquis. Henry suspected the power dynamic over this debate was about to shift. He only hoped it would work in favor of a solution.

Henry had one swift glance to note that Carolyn and her mother were in the observation galley before he took his seat and called the college to order. Briefly, he took in the agitated state of Lord John, the curious looks of many of the other men, and a solemn expression on Lord David's face that made him wonder, but there was no point beating about the bush.

"My lord marquis, we understand that you have news regarding the arrangements with the Sodan?"

John stood. One of his hands rested casually on the hilt of his sword, not an uncommon attitude, but seeing the crest of Atalan in John's hand gave Henry a prickling feeling of foreboding for a moment.

"Majesty," John said with a slight bow. "My lords. I am here to announce that I have come to an understanding with Lord Haikon of the Sodan." The other man was in one of the galleys, accompanied by several of his men. John grew calmer as he spoke, and Henry detected an almost belligerent look in his eyes. "In exchange for labor to rebuild the capital of Cheyenne, Sheppard will yield the southernmost portion of the province to the Sodan as their own, excepting the ancient lands of Cimmeria as they extend west of the city."

For one moment the entire room seemed frozen. The silence was broken by a sudden thunder as many leapt from their seats, shouting, approving, objecting and otherwise simply expressing total shock.

The lord of Grieves stared at John. "My lord, how can this be possible? Has it not been your argument for days that Sheppard should not yield anything further?"

Lord Thomas of Medinah chimed in before the marquis could respond. "And how could you make such a decision alone without the consultation of the assembly?" Medinah would now share part of its border with the Sodan, a fact that was surely making Lord Thomas uncomfortable.

His words were a poor choice, though. John offered the man a steely glare. "When last I checked, my lord, I was the Marquis of Sheppard. My family's lands are mine to dispose of as I see fit. The Sodan have something I need, and I have something they want, and that they were promised by this nation. If I am able to provide an honorable people some earth to call their own and secure an ally and friend on my border, then that is my prerogative."

More men than Lord Thomas flinched at that. John of Sheppard had once been sent into exile by many of the men in this room. For all the wagging tongues disparaging him for not having taken an oath to the crown of Caldora, it was clear the young man had not forgotten the past, nor would he let those responsible for his suffering forget either.

There was a great deal of muttering going on in the room, but Lord David stood and Henry recognized him. David was looking at John with a mix of admiration and sadness. "Majesty, my lords, the settlement of the Sodan in the southern portion of Sheppard leaves Dixon unable to do much towards the payment of our debt to our allies. However, Dixon will offer to cede some portion of the Talas foothills within our borders to Sheppard, to allow her people room to accommodate this alteration."

A new round of shouting rolled through the room. Plans were spinning fast through Henry's mind. John looked at David in surprise and gratitude for a moment before sitting down again. Many eyes then moved to Maybourne.

He stood stiffly and shot a glance at Lord Davis. "I am willing to discuss the redrawing of the border between Maybourne and Dixon, but only if Davis considers the yielding of the Rymer Valley back to its rightful owners."

Paul was obviously struggling to contain his anger. The last few days had not been pleasant ones for the young man and Henry felt a small twinge of guilt. Davis was a good man and did not deserve to go down in defeat to Maybourne on this issue. However, the greater good of the nation might require it.

The concession was no more than a nod of the head, but for the sake of Lord Davis' pride, Henry accepted it and indicated Maybourne should sit. Then he held up a hand for attention.

"My lords, this is both surprising and welcome news from the marquis. It is time Caldora honored her debt to our allies. However, we must insist that Sheppard, which has lost so much to this war already, not bear the entire burden." He drew a short breath and braced himself. What he was about to say would not go over well. "To that end, we order the former lands of Makepeace to be given to the Sodan as a parcel with the portion of Sheppard."

If the earlier noise had been loud, the new outburst was deafening. Through the chaos, Henry saw John lift his chin slightly, and knew the younger man understood the purpose of the gesture. Giving the lands of Lord Makepeace, whose death had caused John's exile, to foreigners to settle was a bold statement indeed.

Lord Thomas was on his feet again, nearly apoplectic with rage. "Majesty, I must protest such a high handed decision being imposed without any discussion!"

Henry leveled a cold look at the man. "Makepeace died without issue. His lands were ceded back to the crown to be dealt with at the king's discretion, as is tradition when a province finds itself without a ruler. If you desire to change that rule, my lord, we welcome the discussion, but it would not change our decision in this matter."

"Medinah will not take in the refugees of Makepeace who will be uprooted by this act," Thomas spat back. "We have neither the room nor the resources to support them all. Should I send them to Redwater instead?"

"You may send them to Icaria," Stephen's booming voice cut in before Henry could respond in kind. "We would not turn our backs on our brothers and leave them nowhere to go out of spite when the king has made a lawful decision to honor our debts."

Thomas faltered under Stephen's glare and sat down again. Henry knew he would make what arrangements he could to be sure Icaria would not have to support all those from Makepeace who would leave in advance of the Sodan arriving, but a single look between them told him Stephen knew that already and it need not be spoken of now.

Henry gathered himself. "I see no further purpose in debating, my lords, unless any other offers are to be made of land to add to Sheppard's most generous sacrifice for the sake of our nation and our allies." He could hardly believe himself that of all the fractious lords in the realm, it was the man most a stranger and who had lost the most who was so willing to yield more.

John of Sheppard could prove an enormously valuable ally or a terrible enemy, because others so consistently underestimated him. It was not a mistake Henry could afford to make again.

He turned his attention to Lord Haikon, though it was not customary for the assembly to acknowledge the presence of people in the galleries. "My lord, may I have your formal word whether these arrangements will be satisfactory to the Sodan and fulfill our agreement?"

Haikon nodded. "It is given, Majesty."

"Very well." Henry dismissed the meeting, ordering John, David, Stephen, Paul and Maybourne to join him in his rooms to look over maps and discuss the specifics. As he quit the room, he saw a look of shock on Aurelia's face, while Carolyn looked deeply unhappy. Unfortunately, he would have to wait to find the cause of that expression. Now he had a kingdom to redraw.

* * *

Once he had announced his intentions to the assembly, John felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He'd known that he would face opposition and derision from many of the other lords, but nonetheless, his and his allies' aim had been accomplished. John's selfless offer of land to the Sodan had either encouraged or shamed many of the other men into making offers of assistance of some kind. Thomas of Medinah had been a canker on the entire matter, but John didn't doubt that the king could deal with him.

Cameron joined the group that followed the king down the corridors, coming up to walk beside him, but John turned his attention to David, who was just behind him. He slowed his gait to allow the man to move up to his right. "Thank you, Dixon," he said quietly.

The other man smiled faintly at him. "You're welcome, my lord. Seeing as your offer meant that my offering land to the Sodan was out of the question geographically, I felt the least I could do was offer what I could to help the people of Sheppard in the transition."

John nodded. When the group of men arrived at the king's study, Cameron slowed to a halt at the door while the others entered. John was the last to go in. "I'll inform you of the particulars when I can," he muttered to his cousin just before entering the room and closing the door behind him.

The next hour was not one that passed by quickly. Paul Davis continued to scowl at Maybourne every time the man spoke about the contested valley, and it was growing more and more likely that Maybourne was going to have the tract of land if only for the sake of having the man's help with the coming changes.

John himself did not regret his offer, though he was relieved that he had refused to cede anything of Cimmeria to the Sodan. He didn't feel it just to give Lady Gairwyn's ancestral lands up when she wasn't even present to be consulted on the matter.

The arguments and wrangling over the various maps in the king's study were finally interrupted when there was a knock at the door. The captain of the guard appeared in the doorway and stated, "Majesty, there is a messenger who requests admittance immediately. He states that his business is one of extreme urgency."

Henry nodded. "Send him in," he ordered. The rest of the group also looked up from the table toward the entrance.

When the messenger entered, John felt a flicker of familiarity. The man's face was vaguely recognizable, but what caught his attention was the seal emblazoned upon his tunic and cloak – the winged horse of Atalan.

The messenger bowed to the king and spoke, "Your Majesty, I bring a message from Atlantis."

The king nodded. "I thank you for your pains on such a long journey," he replied, then held out his hand for the message. The messenger, however, did not release his burden.

"Forgive me, Majesty, but the message is for Lord John of Sheppard."

John blinked in shock. A message for him? Elizabeth had not sent him a reply to his hasty message after the summit. What had changed now? He straightened and glanced at the king, but stepped forward. The messenger held out the letter. Once the letter had changed hands, the messenger bowed and left the room.

John stared down at the letter. The wax seal was not the royal seal, the one used by the queen and her councilors on all official documents, but rather a decidedly less grand one. He raised an eyebrow. An official royal messenger – sent into the presence of a foreign king, no less – bearing a personal letter? Unease swept through him as he broke the seal. Unfolding the parchment, he began to read.

_My lord,_

_Elizabeth is gravely ill. I know not what you have heard from the north in recent weeks, but a sickness has spread along the coast. The queen mother in Iolan has already died of this fever._

John felt his blood grow cold. He gripped the letter in suddenly nerveless fingers and read on.

_Forgive my impertinence, but if your feelings are what they were when you departed, I beg you, return to Atlantis with all haste._

_Come home, John. She needs you._

_Kate_

"My lord?" Caldwell asked, interrupting John's rereading of the letter. He sounded genuinely concerned.

John held his breath for one long moment before turning to flee the room, heedless of the men calling after him.

* * *

Cameron had expected the subsequent meeting after the assembly's gathering to run long. The offers and deals had been struck with the Sodan, but the details would take some time to determine. Even with John's promise to inform him, Cameron did not expect to hear much of anything for some time. He suspected that even Queen Aurelia and Princess Carolyn would have to wait for news. This did not stop him from hovering outside the door, however.

With the arrival of the Atalanian messenger, Cameron became alert, wondering what had happened now. Only moments after the messenger departed from King Henry's study, John came tearing out, his face white.

"Cousin? What is wrong?" Cameron asked, alarmed.

John sped past him, saying, "I have to go. Now."

Cameron hurried after him. His questions went unanswered until they reached their room. "John," he all but shouted, "what has happened?"

"Elizabeth is sick," John said shortly as he grabbed his saddlebag from beneath his bed. "I have to go."

Queen Elizabeth was ill? That was unfortunate, Cameron allowed, but… He stared at his cousin. "You can't be considering leaving _now_ , are you?" he demanded incredulously. "The deal with the Sodan –"

"You will stand in my place," John cut him off. He began shoving a tunic into the saddlebag. "The planning is in its early stages, so there is not much to catch up on. Davis is two shades from ripping Maybourne's throat out, so beware –"

"John!" Cameron interrupted, grabbing his cousin's arm to force him to halt his packing. " _You_ are the Marquis of Sheppard, not I. You cannot just leave, not when so many are counting on you!"

John's frantic movements ceased. He held up an opened letter in his hand. "This is from Lady Katherine. She would not have written me unless the circumstances were dire. Elizabeth needs me in Atalan." His tone was low and almost menacing, brooking no further argument.  
  
Cameron stared as his cousin as he jerked free from Cameron's grasp and returned to his packing. The desperation, the passion in John's manner, it was all unlike anything he could recall seeing … except for the frantic note he had written just before Cameron had accompanied King Henry to the secret summit with Atalan's queen. At the time, Cameron had passed it off as exhaustion, but now the emotions had returned to his cousin in full force.

Suddenly, he cursed himself for being a simpleton. His cousin's fierce loyalty to Queen Elizabeth, his aggressive reaction to any slight against her, the soft glimmer in his eyes on the rare occasion that he spoke of her, all of it made sense. How was it he had not seen what was so plainly in front of him? It was not the nation of Atalan that had inspired John's loyalty, but the queen herself.

"You're in love with her," Cameron blurted out.

For a moment John paused, staring down at the saddlebag. Then he closed the clasp and stood straight. "Yes," he said simply.

Cameron gaped, unable to speak further immediately. John's expression was both defiant and pleading, but all Cameron could focus on was that his cousin was turning his back on his own people for the sake of an outsider.

"She is a foreign queen. Is this the reason why you won't give your oath to King Henry? An infatuation with this… girl?"

John's face darkened dangerously. "Do not stand in my way, Cameron. Not in this matter."

Cameron had become used to John's threats whenever anyone disparaged Atalan or Queen Elizabeth, but he saw John's actions in a new light and it shook him to the core.

John walked deliberately around him but paused when he reached the door. He looked back over his shoulder. "You will do well by our people and our allies. Trust Dixon and the king to help you. I will write as soon as I am able."

John didn't wait for an answer, but instead strode out the door. No doubt his destination was the stables, where Silvanus had been cooped up since their arrival in Redwater. Cameron was left alone in their room, wondering what he was supposed to do now.


End file.
